Fathers and Sons
by Denaliyasha
Summary: Everything is about fathers and sons. 'Bobby, I asked you to marry me. The normal reaction is not to freak out about how I'll be better off if you say no.' BobbyAlex


Disclaimer: The writing is mine, the characters aren't.

A/N: Sort of a sequel to Gambling With Sanity and Irene, Achilles, Kryptonite. Sparked by: "In this world, it's all about fathers and sons." Rough quote from the TV show Saved. I thought it applied nicely. I'm also taking total license with her parents. Sorry if any of it offends you, deal with it. :D I also don't mean to make fun of or lessen the impact of alcoholism. My brother has a chemical addiction, and it'll be with him for life. Please, if you struggle with anything, get help. That said, I'm glossing over it because it's not really the point of this story. I know that alcoholics don't just get 'better', and kudos to anyone who's a recovering alcoholic or is getting help for any addiction.

**Fathers and Sons**

"I swear to god, Bobby, you're doing it again!"

"What do you mean?" He looked, bewildered, at his diminutive partner and sometime girlfriend. Her eyes were flashing fire and she was supremely pissed off.

"You're hiding it again. Curling around whatever it is that's bothering you and not letting me in. I thought we'd gotten past this!"

"We have!" He was honestly confused, and that seemed to make her angrier.

"No, obviously not! You're still doing it! And I can't get through to you, Bobby! That hurts me!" She threw up her hands in frustration and started pacing the living room he'd come to think of as theirs.

"What do you mean?"

"Bobby, I asked you to MARRY me. The normal reaction is NOT to freak out and go off on a random tangent about how you don't want to hurt me, and you know you would!"

"But I would, Alex. Why can't I point that out?"

She knelt down in front of where he was sitting on the couch and put her hands on his knees. "Because I don't believe you would. And that's something we need to talk about, your inability to think this will work. You let me into your home, your life... but you keep expecting me to walk! Or you keep expecting you to walk! It's like this out clause you've built into our relationship, and you're using it now. It hurts, Bobby, to think that you can't even sit and talk rationally about this!"

"I can be rational." His hands moved to cover hers, stroking them gently. "I was."

"Bobby, you leapt across the room away from me so fast I thought you'd broken a world record. You start talking a mile a minute, and the only reason I could keep up with you was because I've been around you for a really, really long time, and then you declare that I'M going to be better off if we're not married?" She jerked her hands away from his and started pacing again. "I don't see where you get off getting to decide whether I'll be better off. Tell me something, Bobby, if I said I was going to die in six months, would that make you leave me?"

"NO!" He sounded horrified at the thought.

"Even though it might be better for you not to be attached to someone who was dying?"

"I'd never do that, Alex, never."

"Then can't you see that you're asking me to do exactly that?" She stopped walking and turned to face him, an almost pleading expression in her eyes. She wanted him to understand her so badly... "Personally, I don't think you'll ever walk out on me. I don't think you'll get me pregnant than leave. I think you'd be a great husband and a wonderful father, if it ever came to that. But you have to understand that it's my choice. I love you, Bobby, you know that. I can't just drop this subject because you're afraid you'll do something stupid. Do you WANT to walk out on me?"

"NO!" He shook his head hard.

"Then why do you believe you will?" She made her way to the couch again, sitting down next to him and turning so she could face him.

"I... I haven't had the greatest role models, Alex. My father walked out the minute my mom started having problems."

"You know what? My mother is an alcoholic. She used beer to cope with living with a cop and having to take care of her kids. She's fine now," she waved a hand at his concerned look, "Totally alcohol free, but she's always going to have to live with that. And you know what? I'm not going to be an alcoholic because I grew up around one. I worry about it, yes, but I can't let it rule my life. I made up my mind to not have that problem, and I haven't. THAT'S how you deal with your parents' problems, Bobby, not by letting them rule your life."

"I'm sorry about your mother."

"And I'm sorry about yours." She laced her fingers through his. "Do you see my point, Bobby?"

"I... I suppose so." He smiled tentatively. "I'll do my best."

"Good." She grinned at him. "That's all I ask." She leaned over and kissed him.

"Alex?"

"Mmm?"

He extracted his hand from hers and fished around in his pocket, finally pulling out a jeweler's box. "I've been carrying this around for months, practically since we started dating." He flipped open the box and watched her eyes light up in delight and surprise. "I didn't think I'd ever be able to put you in that position, but I bought it anyway. I know you proposed, but how about I give you a ring?"

"Sounds good to me." She smiled against his mouth as she kissed him, hard, and then held out her hand for the ring. "Bobby?"

He slid the happily winking diamond onto her left ring finger and kissed her palm before raising his eyes to hers. "Yes?"

"Don't EVER keep something like that inside again, you hear?"

"Yes ma'am." He wrapped a hand around her neck and pulled her back for another kiss.


End file.
